


Deinen Geist, Dein Herz, Deine Seele

by MahalsBeard



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Abused Sexual Practices, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bottom Thorin, Domestic Violence, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Subjects dealing about Insanity, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 02:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3879169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MahalsBeard/pseuds/MahalsBeard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The only way I could get you out of here is that if you take my name…as your husband.”</p><p>There was a flicker of hope within those blue irises.  </p><p>“Why are you willing to go through this much to save me?”  A small crack edged his voice but he made himself meet those deep brown orbs intensely looking at him, as if the other man could see straight through his soul.</p><p>“I told you.”  The other man’s eyes crinkled a bit when he smiled.  “It’s because I saw you.”       </p><p> </p><p>  <b>An AU wherein Thorin is kept in Mirkwood Asylum and Kili arrives at the secluded institute to work as the new Assistant Psychiatrist.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Deinen Geist, Dein Herz, Deine Seele

**Author's Note:**

> So I have to emphasize on the warnings in my tags everyone. This story will be short but it will deal with mature subjects. 
> 
> If it's not triggering for you to read this kind of story, it would be my pleasure to bring you another of my imaginations from The Hobbit characters.
> 
> Please do carry on and comments would be much appreciated! :) 
> 
> Another note: This is unbeta-d [as with my other fics] sooo mistakes are all mine!
> 
> TITLE TRANSLATION from German: Your Mind, Your Heart, Your Soul

For the past few days, he had been deprived of the luxury to stay in bed simply to lie down and sleep. The enormous celebrations took most of his time, garnering his thoughts every second the clock ticked in its wooden frame and the succeeding events didn’t give him any chance to regain some kind of space in order to breathe. Not that he could have a moment of comfort ever again, he could no longer even swallow the thought of allowing himself to pretend. What he has learned and ingrained in his brain for months since he lost the only thing that proved he mattered in the world, was not to develop any drop of false hope in his new life. 

A bone-deep exhaustion gripped every limb and it pulled the last traces of his energy to finally succumb in the bliss of unconsciousness. He was granted about ten minutes of undisturbed sleep until the dreadfully familiar weight, gliding over the sheets as if teasing, traveled the short way towards his side of the bed. The heavy hand that slid from the middle of his back then downwards was what he tried so hard to ignore at first, still desperate to clutch onto sleep, but he could not drag this pretense further when the hot breath so closely whispered something in his ear. 

“Don’t pretend to be asleep, Thorin.” The words should have sounded harmless, mischievous even if what was between them had any kind of semblance to what love meant for a couple. But it was a guarantee that there was no love. Only the fact that what bound them together, Thorin has no power to oppose it. And the words instead sounded like a threat. For it was. 

When the hand purposefully slipped beneath his night pants and went straight to its intended destination, Thorin couldn’t help but drown his whimper into the thick cushion of his pillow. That intimate part of him was still tender. Not just from the night before but for the other nights before that as well. Yet a bold finger made its way into him, breaching past the slightly inflamed ring of his opening, and searched as it pleased inside carelessly.

Thorin bit the cloth of his pillow to stop the sounds escaping his throat. He was in pain but there was also that reminder nudging his brain not to satisfy the other man’s cruel whims by giving him these sounds of distress. Nevertheless, panic almost seized him when he made the mistake of holding the man’s wrist and stopping the explorations of his hand.

“Please…I can’t.” He turned his head away from the cushion already damp from his biting. “I can’t. Not…not tonight—“ A sharp exhale blew some of his hairs, obscuring his eyes. Thorin held his breath. 

“As much as I love to hear you begging... you really don’t have any choice in the matter.” The words were so spoken lightly; Thorin didn’t expect the fingers suddenly gripping the dark locks near his nape and making him look straight into the other man’s golden eyes. The finger that had been probing him was removed, only for a strong arm to pull his legs apart and altogether flipping him on his back; his night pants and undergarment completely slipping down over his knees . 

“You know I do not like being defied. Or have you forgotten that my right as your _husband_ …to take you whenever I wanted, does _not_ equally give you the right to say a word to resist my advances?” A groan was Thorin’s reply before a bruising kiss seized his lips. Their teeth clashed when his husband forced his mouth open and he clearly felt the smirk on his sensitive flesh when a tongue licked the trailing blood coming from a newly opened wound. 

“You taste sweet, my dear. As always…” 

“Smau—“ Thorin’s desperate call was sharply impeded by the two fingers that entered him without warning. No cry came out of his lips this time. But warm tears slid down from his eyes, blurring his vision. 

The following moments that occurred came to him like a routinely structured infliction of hurt. He should be used to this. Knowing that he’d been going through the same thing, if not every time but _most of the time_ , his body should have already adapted to the sickly obsessions and forbidding sexual practices his husband always made him participate in. But it didn’t. And to this point, he determinedly cursed the misplaced stubbornness his body could not seem to let go of. His mind, on the other hand, could only so much as shield him from accepting his reality. 

Smaug, his husband, was still whispering something to him. Even as he entered his body with uninhibited strength, even when he reached his peak and flooded his husband’s insides with his seed, even when he possessively molded Thorin’s back on his chest, he didn’t stop the words that made sure to give Thorin his nightmares.

“You’ll forever be mine, Thorin.”

“You will submit yourself to me whenever I wish it.”

“You’ll live to satisfy me the rest of your life.”

“Do you hear me, Thorin?”

“You’re the greatest jewel amongst the horde of gems and gold in our kingdom.”

“Let me hear you say you’re mine…” 

“Thorin.”

“ _Thorin…_ ”

 

**xxx**

 

“Thorin!” 

Amidst the thick haze that clouded his mind, a loud cry of his name finally penetrated through the barriers of his nightmare. The difference of the voice from his dream to the one of his present didn’t occur to him and Thorin couldn’t help but scramble back further to a corner of the padded cell to try getting away as much as possible. One whole night of pain was more than enough to bring him astray from the sanity that was left in him. There was no way he would still survive another bout of abuse if he were to give himself up so easily. 

“Hey…Easy. Easy…” The voice was placating, as if trying to appease with a battered child pitifully curling into a fetal position in a pathetic attempt to hide. The man didn’t dare approach, afraid that if he forced to impose the other man with his bigger presence, Thorin might totally lose it. 

“Thorin. It’s me. It’s Dwalin.” The man lowered his voice. He didn’t know how many times he had tried time and time again to remind Thorin that he was a friend. That he was as much a victim to be trapped in this hellhole even if it was for varying reasons.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Thorin. Please…look at me.” As much as Dwalin wished he could just wrap the other man with his strong arms, he knew the current Thorin will not be able to appreciate the gesture and instead misinterpret the action for what happened to him earlier.

They were brought in this isolated cell about an hour and a half ago while the ones who attacked Thorin were led to the much darker and unkempt molded cell for their punishment. What happened earlier was a nasty play in the world of the insane. The group who had confronted Thorin had been planning to antagonize the man ever since their group leader, Azog, learned of where he’d come from and who he was. With a number of inmates desperate to have an outlet for their suppressed violent urges, they have come to the Albino thug who was a dishonorably discharged general in the past. They have chosen Thorin for the fact that he was once the heir to a very large Mining Corporation and was the spouse of Smaug—a man whose name had always been associated with enormous amount of riches along with his properties and who had the influence that can be equated to that of the Royal Family. And so seeing this once proud man, imprisoned in this asylum, was a very nice opportunity to make things more exciting. 

…

Few minutes more have passed when Thorin finally gathered his wits and hesitatingly raised his head to look at Dwalin. The man had stopped calling him, maybe deeming it futile at this moment, but then he never left waiting for Thorin to face him. 

“Is it the same nightmare?” Dwalin carefully asked and he almost cursed himself when he noticed the way Thorin immediately stiffened.

“All my nightmares…look the same.” Thorin’s voice was broken. It would be for he had kept screaming when Azog was about to break his ankle just a few hours before. In fact, the lower part of his leg was now inflamed due to the strain it had endured. Dwalin could not see how much the state of the injury had escalated for Thorin had it hidden with his other leg. However, he could tell that the man was currently numb of the pain for his mental stability was in a much more jeopardized state.

“The Lady Doctor, Tauriel, said we could already go back to our rooms. She reassured me that the group who attacked you won’t see any light for the following week.” Dwalin averted his gaze when Thorin clutched onto his newly bruised arm as if he had momentarily relived how Azog almost crushed it while holding him down. 

“You need to visit the infirmary first.” 

Thorin looked up at him in horror.

“They…they didn’t get that far.” His voice was breathless. It sounded more like he was fighting for air in his lungs. 

“I know. I was glad I got there before they did.” Dwalin said. There was so much more he wanted to say to wipe away whatever the man was feeling, whether it was shame for being subjected to an attempted sexual exploitation or merely the fact that he instantly succumbed to a severe panic attack the moment Azog pushed him off his feet. 

He caught Thorin’s blue eyes and held it firm. There were no words that would be enough to fully calm the other man. Among every patient trapped in this secluded institute, he had the record to prove how much he had suffered from the clutches of his own husband enough to drive him into a state mistaking him for being mentally deranged. Dwalin couldn’t even imagine what kind of sick perversions that damn Smaug has subjected Thorin to, to make him act like this. Some of the doctors determinedly ignored and denied this vital fact. And some of the others, even the patients, who had more sanity than the ones who forcefully put them into the institution, could only so much as sympathize with his situation. 

“I—I…Alright.” Thorin finally conceded. He would have tried to stand by himself but then the throbbing of his leg began to grace his attention. There was a chance he could stand by sheer will alone just for the satisfaction that he wouldn’t appear weak in front of his friend, nevertheless, Dwalin had already moved forward to grab him and put his better faring arm around his shoulders. His friend took most of his weight. What he could do to save himself further embarrassment was to bite his tongue hard enough not to scream from the agony of moving. 

 

**xxx**

 

His mentor looked at him through those thick, round glass lenses he considered the best kind of spectacles of their time. Even if the nose pads dug over the sides of his nose due to the weight of the frame front alone, the old doctor seemed to use the glasses as some kind of magnifying glass that could zoom in the thoughts of a person simply by focusing his eyes on them. The young doctor tried not to squirm in his seat. Ideally, with his confident personality, he would have stared straight through his mentor’s eyes without hesitation. Though now was not the time for such familiarities as he was asking a favor. 

The old doctor sighed and decisively landed his gaze on the papers he’d been reviewing on his desk. 

“There are so many other prestigious Mental Institutes here in Ireland where you could lend your professional skills. Why choose Mirkwood Asylum that is miles away from your hometown?” 

“I believe there is a dire need of assistance in Mirkwood. Rather than I choose my own convenience, I would be more satisfied to offer my services to a place deserving of much needed attention.” 

“You speak as if other Institutes are well-equipped with medical support compared to Mirkwood. We both know that place, isolated as though it may seem, is supported and funded by important dignitaries. Surely they wouldn’t let that asylum, along with its patients, be abandoned so carelessly.”

The young doctor straightened in his seat. He didn’t want to sound anxious. He also didn’t want to sound rude in front of his mentor. But his patience was beginning to thin by the time they were touching the subject about why he intended to choose to work in Mirkwood Asylum in particular. When he was about to speak again, his mentor leaned forward to scrutinize him. The young doctor stared in return with an expression he didn’t want to convey through words. It was an amusing thing to watch. A psychiatrist against a psychiatrist, trying to form a battle with observational skills and mental control as their tools to identify the thoughts in each other’s brain.

“That place is full of mystery, Kili.” A glint in the mentor’s eyes showed Kili the older doctor was beginning to understand. “I know how much your curiosity usually dictates your actions.” The doctor paused. 

“Be careful when you get there.” The sound of the dry seal stamping on his transfer papers echoed around the room. Kili was in a short moment of surprise and it took him another second to register that his mentor was handing him his legal papers and a recommendation letter duly signed by the old doctor. 

“I will, Doctor Oin. Thank you.” Kili carefully pushed his chair and reached out to shake the hand of the other doctor. “I will send a telegram once I reach Mirkwood.” They smiled at each other, having a silent understanding, and the old doctor led Kili from his office. 

“Send word to my good friend Gandalf. You can tell him directly that I was the one who transferred you to his hospital.” Oin said before he sent the younger man on his way. 

…

 

No matter how sturdy and well constructed his carriage was it had no fight against the harsh effects of weather on the earth road. The ride creaked on dangerously soft soil but his chauffer was a good driver and so he kept reassuring the young doctor they would still arrive at the Asylum without his master having to resort to riding the horse with only his top hat and long coat as protection from the rain. The chauffer navigated through the uneven street and took a longer time to have a clear view if they were tracking on the right direction. With a few more turns, the big old yew tree that Doctor Oin told them was the main land mark for the Institute, appeared on their sight. Kili couldn’t admit how relieved he was that they didn’t get lost, especially when the late afternoon was getting close to evening. 

A massive gate emerged from the trail of thick roots from the yew tree and his chauffer alighted to pull on the huge doorbell by the side of the iron-railed entrance. The bell sounded like a gong and the booming volume reached the Manor despite the heavy pouring rain. Just a minute later and two men went out, carrying umbrellas, to manually unlock the gate. 

The chauffer went back to the carriage and drove inside the Asylum. It seemed they were expected for no questions were asked nor their prepared legal papers were stamped before they were welcomed inside the Manor. 

“Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am Dr. Kilian.” He shook hands with the two men who led them inside the institute. 

“I would like to further introduce myself but if it’s not too much to ask, I have to request for Gimli—“ He gestured on his friend and chauffer, barely controlling his body from shivering, “—if you be so kind to give him a towel and prepare him a warm bath. I wouldn’t want him getting sick especially since we just came from travel.” He smiled apologetically, embarrassed for having to request so soon when he hasn’t properly stated his purpose for arrival. 

The young doctor need not worry though, for the two men pleasantly acquiesced to his request and one of them motioned for Gimli to follow him towards the bathing chambers while the other led Kili towards the West Wing to meet the director of the Asylum. 

“Please wait here, Doctor. I will inform Dr. Grey of your arrival. Would you like something to drink? It is a nasty storm, you must be cold.” The gentleman asked. Kili still wasn’t sure what part exactly he played in the hospital and suddenly felt rude for not asking earlier.

“I have been rude. Would you care to tell me your name?” Kili asked.

The gentleman was a bit surprised. The young doctor was extremely polite and…charming. Ever since he was employed in this hospital, no one ever took the time to ask for his name. Rather, most employees here only cared for good service. 

“Ori, Dr. Kilian.” He answered softly.

“Well Ori, I’d like some earl grey tea please. Thank you.” Kili gave him that charming smile again and the young gentleman couldn’t help but blush, making a small nod before scurrying silently out the door. 

Kili then gently placed his briefcase by the side of a chair. It squeaked lightly for the leather exterior got a bit damp when they transferred his things from the carriage to cart them inside the Manor. He looked around the room. It appeared no different from his mentor’s. Built-in bookshelves lined the walls, various medical tools lay properly on their respective places, a single clock ticked loudly at one side, and a big, varnished mahogany desk stood at the far side of the room. Kili was not one to impose when he hasn’t yet been invited to sit near that specific table. So he chose to sit on one of the couches adjacent to the entrance of the office.

The long hand of the clock passed four numbers before the door creaked open and sleek, black heels gently tapped on the floor, echoing like the raindrops outside the building. Kili stood as soon as he heard them and promptly gave an acknowledging nod, along with a professional smile, when the red-haired woman regarded him. It was a pleasant surprise for the two of them recognized how close they must be in age. The young male doctor then noticed his own silence and so he opened his mouth to state a brief introduction. However, he was stopped by the overwhelming whiff of smoke that traveled from the same door where the woman just entered towards the interior of the office.

“What nonsense! I am not some wizard to be able to stop the rain. This storm will only stop when it wants to stop! All this insanity is beginning to cloy my brain.” Came the grumbling from a silver-haired man, wearing that oddly matching grey suit overall. All the while, he stomped his polished wooden cane on the floor as he walked further in the room.

“Oh you! You must be that young doctor!” 

It took a second for Kili to recover and approached the old man to offer his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Gandalf.” 

The red-haired woman seemed to tilt her head a bit in the way he addressed the old man.

“I am Doctor Kilian Vanstone from Dublin. Doctor Oin have sent a letter with regards to my transfer in your hospital. If I am correct, I am to assist the Director of Mirkwood Asylum.”

One firm handshake and the old man looked Kili in that same manner Oin had also stared at him as if he was some kind of specimen. The young doctor has since learned not to feel uncomfortable when subjected to this type of scrutiny.

The exchange that took longer than necessary was only interfered with Ori arriving to push a cart filled with a pot of tea, a set of cups, and some tea cakes. Once the young gentleman left the room, Gandalf spoke again. 

“Then I will show you the records of the patients you would be handling, if you don’t mind diving into work as early as tomorrow.”

“O—Of course not.” Kili was a bit taken aback. And then an immediate realization hit him. “I apologize for being rude. You’re Doctor Grey?” His mentor only mentioned the name Gandalf, as he was the owner of the hospital. But he didn’t instantly connect the possibility that he might also be the Director of his own hospital.

“One and only.” Gandalf answered and then sauntered over the mahogany desk to take his place on the swivel chair. He waved a hand in gesture for Kili to take a seat. “I am sure Oin didn’t give you much introduction about me. I don’t doubt he only described me as some kind of good for nothing old-timer who owns a mysterious Asylum.” 

Kili flustered. “O—Of course not, Doctor Grey.” To be honest, Oin didn’t mention anything about him aside from his name and the fact that he owns the Institute.

“Oh I’m sorry, my dear.” Gandalf referred to the red-haired woman and nodded for her to come near the table.

“This is Doctor Tauriel, my daughter.”

Kili turned his attention to the female doctor. It was another thing he wasn’t expecting.

“She is the one currently assisting me in most of my patients—or in fact every patient in this humongous Asylum—but I am afraid I don’t want to expose her to some of our patients we have chosen to quarantine due to their _unpredictable_ behavior.”

Of course. Kili could perfectly understand the risks of handling violent patients and the other ones that have a tendency to be normal one moment then become erratically resilient the next. There was also the consideration that Tauriel was a female. She wouldn’t be able to defend herself as much as a male doctor could. 

“I understand.”

Gandalf stood up and went towards the left side of his wall near a Van Gogh painting. His hand made a few press on invisible buttons and the artwork moved forward in an abrupt jolt. The old Doctor pressed something again on the side of it and the painting opened like a door, revealing a hidden vault.

“I know you are wondering why I’m showing you this. Records of patients must always be kept securely, else, if they happen to getaway and become curious, surely they will search for their records to reclaim their rights to get out of the Asylum.”

“Then…why show me where you keep them? I would not take it against you if you just hand me the records later this evening.”

“Doctor Kili…” 

The young doctor was taken aback. Once again. This day was giving him full of surprises. But he didn’t flinch. There was no indication how surprised he was the old doctor knew the shorter version of his name. Nevertheless, there was still that “possibility” that it was merely coincidence. It didn’t take a genius for someone to think Kili was his nickname anyway. 

“Oin is a dear friend of mine. I am not skeptical about his choices or his judgment in people. If I trust him then I am also trusting you.” Gandalf paused fumbling with folders and boxes of patient files. He gave Kili a look. “Tell me Doctor, should I not follow my instinct?”

A brief silence followed the question. It was always like this. When two doctors of the mind clash with similar understanding, a small portion of qualm impedes them to truly rely on their instincts to follow what they believe in. Some would refer to this as reasonable doubt such as people of the law. Some would say that it was only the natural part of someone’s identity that provides the image of mystery. 

“You have no reason to doubt me, Doctor Grey.” After this statement, Kili felt easier to smile.

The old man gave him a sincere smile in return.

…

 

“You are a charming man, Doctor Kilian. And I read your profile. It is impressive, I must say.” Tauriel glanced at the doctor walking by her side. 

They have just come from the dining hall where they had a sumptuous dinner with other resident doctors and nurses. Everyone was pleased to have a youthful addition to their company and the few female members unashamedly voiced out their appreciation for having such a young handsome doctor in a middle-aged dominated profession. It was still rare for doctors in their late twenties or early thirties to have already attained several notable contributions in the world of science. 

“Please.” Kili bowed his head as if to wave off the compliment. “My achievements were not my efforts alone. There were people who helped me. Still are.”

“An intelligent man who gets flustered by mere compliments.” She chuckled. “You are interesting.” Tauriel paused and a faraway look marked her expression. “So far in my life as a doctor, I’ve not had much of a diversion from work. But I also can’t imagine myself giving up on patients I think I know simply by studying their histories and profile.”

With that statement, the topic of their conversation leaped from light and casual to how serious and vital their profession was for people who were deprived of the love they needed to escape from what brought them to madness. The emotion that came to him was unexpectedly strong.

“I perfectly understand the sentiment. It’s hard to imagine how someone must feel when he or she once had a normal life and then suddenly, tragedy destroyed their hold on sanity…on life.” 

It was quiet for several moments. Kili didn’t notice he had clenched his fists so hard his nails dug on his palms. Only when Tauriel gradually touched her fingers on his hands that he realized the angry red marks now marring his skin. Somehow, this brave action of hers made him admire the female doctor more.

“Isn’t that why we’re here?” She was smiling. And this smile was different from the professionally poised doctor he had been introduced to earlier. It was a welcome of a friend—of someone with the same understanding and level of sympathy towards others. Someone who did not seek to attain prestige in her name but rather, the pure desire to help and restore what was lost. 

She saw the time on the clock just behind Kili and remembered her evening duty.

“I know you are tired from hours of travelling. As much as I want this night to be long, I still have to visit the infirmary. Anyway, we’ll have more time to carry on with our conversation since you will be staying with us for the duration of the year.” 

“I’ll show you to your room.” 

Tauriel was about to turn on her heel to go to the direction of the Doctor’s Wing but Kili’s hand shot out to stop her. She didn’t look surprised and instead tilted her head in silent question.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to observe.” He asked. He removed his hand from her shoulder after realizing how his action seemed overly familiar. It was true they were now friends but that doesn’t disregard the fact that they just met this afternoon.

“Are you quite sure?” She glanced at the clock once again as if to emphasize how late it was getting. Surely, the male doctor was exhausted and was in need of replenishing his energy through sleep.

Kili nodded.

She sighed and then smiled.

“Follow me.”

…

 

They passed a long row of corridors that led towards the North Wing of the Manor. By this time of the night, you would think it would be a quiet walk. But in an Asylum, there would always be the sound of soft murmurs, of childish wonder coming from the voice of an adult, of dangerous frustration scratching on the walls, of desperate pleas begging for their freedom. It was a range of music filled with emotions and mystery. One message echoed through this array of cries though—it was the scream of _loss_. 

Kili and Tauriel knew how to interpret these. Most of them if not everything. They studied it. They’ve gone to prestigious universities to carry the degree proving they were capable of curing these sadly twisted minds. But their passion—that was what empowered them to deal with each kind of madness every single day. And so they understood how important it was not to give up on these people the way their own kin gave up on them.

Two turns to the left and they’ve arrived in the Infirmary. 

Tauriel opened the door and made way for Kili to enter. She greeted the patients they passed by while asking the nurses about the progress of each individual. Some of them had suffered from inconsistent seizures while some were under observation due to recent panic attack records. She didn’t choose this time to introduce Kili to the patients and the male doctor respected her decision. When they made their way towards one of the exclusive rooms inside the Infirmary, she hesitated before turning to face Kili.

“The patient behind this door was attacked yesterday by other patients who are now currently quarantined. I’m not quite sure how he will react if he sees an unfamiliar face. I recommend that you just stay by the door while I approach him. He’s heavily medicated due to his injuries but I cannot risk him having a panic attack if he senses your presence.” Tauriel explained.

By the way she spoke, this particular patient must have undergone a violent encounter and his condition substantiated a very delicate situation. Kili knew the protocol. These were the types of cases where he could feel the anger rising like fire against unbounded cruelty.

“I understand.” He spoke softly, silently afraid that he may cause distress on the patient lying on the bed at the other side of the door.

Tauriel took out her key and unlocked the wrought iron grills blocking the wooden entrance. She was careful not to sound like she was creeping in and confidently walked inside the room, Kili following at her back soundlessly. She approached the bed and cautiously leaned forward to the man staring straight through the window, watching the starless sky.

“Mister Thorin?” She called softly.

**Author's Note:**

> As you can see, the characters will be a bit OOC because I had to adjust their personalities according to their roles in the AU story. I hope it is not an unpleasant change. 
> 
> P.S. I have another WIP entitled, "Beyond Realms and Kingdoms" so if you're interested in Thranduil/Thorin, please do drop by to read it! [One more chapter to go for this one]
> 
> Thanks! :)


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